


The Client from Wyoming

by reddiegays



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Homophobia, Infidelity, Love Confessions, M/M, Reverse Fake Relationship, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, and have to pretend they're not, and she's still like 'what good friends', basically richie and eddie are sleeping together, but myra finds richie's number and invites him to dinner. richie pretends to be his client, so eddie can get a clean divorce, they do everything short of fucking right in front of her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiegays/pseuds/reddiegays
Summary: Myra finds a suspicious phone number in Eddie's coat and invites 'Richard' to dinner.





	The Client from Wyoming

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me why I just thought it would be a hilarious concept. apologies if it's not completely american (I had to stop myself writing 'boot' instead of 'trunk' lol). hope you like it

Myra hadn’t meant to snoop. She was simply hanging up her husband’s jacket and her hand happened to slide into his pocket completely accidentally. Anyway, Eddie was her husband, she had a right to know what he was up to. As she rifled through his pockets, she happened upon a phone number, a receipt for a hotel room and several ten dollar notes. She didn’t think anything of it at first; Eddie was a businessman, often staying in hotels and collecting phone numbers from clients. Still, Myra could tell this one was different. It had a name and several stars next to it: Richard. So Myra texted the number, inviting him to dinner.

The next evening, Myra watched Eddie routinely set the table, checking the cutlery five or six times to make sure they were spotlessly clean. She waited until he’d almost finished until she dropped the bombshell, watching his reaction closely.

“Eddie Bear, don’t forget to set an extra place. We’ve got a guest coming, remember?” She spoke in her sickly sweet tone that always made the hairs in the back of Eddie’s neck stand up, “I told you about it yesterday. Did you forget?”

“No, no…sorry, uh, who is it again?”

“Oh, hon, you’ve been working too hard, I think you need some tome off work,” Eddie rolled his eyes but let her continue, not wanting to get into that right now, “you’re far too run down and stressed. That friend of yours, Richard. I should meet…”

Anything else Myra might’ve been about to say was cut off by Eddie dropping the plate and smashing it to pieces. He stared at the mess and set about cleaning it up, avoiding looking at his wife.

“You invited Richie to dinner?” He said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone of voice, turning a dramatic shade of white. Myra just stared at him, rather confused; she hadn’t been expecting that. _Richie?_

“Why yes of course, dear. I should meet all of your friends, shouldn’t I? Unless there’s any reason why I shouldn’t…”

“Did you go through my fucking things, again?” Eddie snapped as the penny dropped. He stood up, throwing the broken plate into the bin, “that is not okay, Myra!”

“Eddie Bear,” Myra gave her best pout, putting down her trashy gossip magazine, “I just want to meet your friends, married couples shouldn’t have secrets from each other.”

“Richie isn’t a friend, he’s just a client from Wyoming. He’s setting up a business and wants my help making sure it’s ship shape. That’s all.” 

Eddie quickly hurried into the kitchen before Myra could question his sudden panicked mood; he stopped at the sink and threw water over his face, breathing deeply. He was lying, of course. Richie wasn’t a client from Wyoming at all. He was Eddie’s secret lover, his bit on the side, paramour and other hilarious nicknames the comedian had come up with. They’d been seeing each for months since reuniting in their childhood hometown, Derry, Maine. They had a history, they grew up together; they had a bond that went beyond any relationship either had ever had. As soon as they’d met again after all those years, it was like they’d never been apart. Eddie loved how free he could be with Richie, how Richie made him feel alive and proud to be who he was. He’d told Richie he was leaving Myra and he was. He just needed time. If Myra knew the real reason he wanted to separate, she’d see that he never got a single thing in the divorce. Richie was understanding and supportive - Eddie was sure he couldn’t love him more.

He jumped violently as the sound of doorbell cut through his thoughts; quickly pulling himself together, Eddie raced into the living room before Myra could even stand up.

“I’ll get that, hon, you check on dinner…”

Eddie didn’t wait for a reply as he barrelled to the door, almost tripping over his feet in his haste. He took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back before opening the door. Richie was standing there looking, as the kids these days say, like a whole ass snack. To anyone else he was the scruffy, bespectacled trashmouth comedian but Eddie’s heart immediately jumped to his mouth as soon as he saw him. He had a stupid smile on his stupid face and he leaned against the door frame, putting on one of his many stupid voices.

“Good afternoon, my good man. I believe you ordered a hot stud with a big dick?”

“Go away,” Eddie hissed, smacking Richie’s arm away from the door frame and attempting to shove the taller man away from his house, “my wife’s home!”

Richie shrugged, wedging his hands into his jacket pockets, “not my usual thing but I can work with it.”

“I’m not kidding, asshole. She found your number, took my phone and texted you!” Eddie lowered his voice, nervously glancing behind him in case Myra was lurking nearby. He rubbed his forehead, “I told you, she can’t know about us, not yet. Not until the divorce is sorted.”

“So, what, you want me to make up some excuse to leave?” Richie pouted, leaning close to Eddie, “we don’t want to disappoint the little lady, do we?”

“Oh, so you finally chose a nickname for your dick?” Eddie snapped, still trying to remove Richie from his porch. The comedian laughed.

“We both know that’s not true, don’t we, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie scowled at him, torn between wanting to jump his bones and smack the smug grin off of his face. Instead, he shoved Richie semi-forcefully.

“Fuck off.”

Richie frowned, shoving him back just as hard, “_you_ fuck off.”

A few minutes later, Myra joined them at the door and blinked at the display in front of her; the two men were engaged in a ridiculously childish slap fight. They broke apart immediately when they spotted her, Eddie plastering a huge fake smile on his face as he gestured at Richie.

“Richie has to leave. Something’s just come up, family emergency.”

“Yeah,” Richie said reluctantly, glaring at his secret boyfriend, “my wife is blind.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Myra said, failing to notice the way her husband’s eyes narrowed as he mouthed a curse word at Richie. “But, you’re here now. Surely you can get someone to look after her…”

“Did I say blind? I meant dead. Is that chicken? Smells great,” Richie said quickly, slapping Eddie’s shoulder as he stepped into the house. The Kaspbraks stared after him, one surprised the other pissed off. Richie whistled, putting on a show of looking around the front room, “nice place you got here, Mrs K. And one I definitely haven’t seen before at all…”

“Oh my God,” Eddie mumbled, burying his face in his hands. He hoped he wasn’t blushing as much as thought when he hissed, “for fuck’s sake, shut up, Richie.”

Myra looked bewildered, glancing between her husband and his client who he seemed very familiar with. It seemed to her like they had known each other years yet Eddie had never mentioned him. She cleared her throat, excusing herself, “right, well, please make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”

As soon as Myra left the room, Eddie turned to Richie, pulling him further into the house as he whispered frantically, “you’re a businessman from Wyoming and you need my help setting up your own firm.”

“Dude, your kinks are getting weirder. I did that nurse/patient thing because you got crazy into it,” Richie said with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket, “what happened to you’re the teacher, I’m the student? Not that I liked that one much. Bit rapey,” his eyes lit up suddenly, raking his eyes over Eddie to make his point, “although I think you’d look great with a cane.”

“Can you stop being horny for one fucking minute, I’m not talking about role playing, dipshit!” Eddie said through gritted teeth, already feeling like he’d aged ten years since Richie arrived, “that’s what I’ve told Myra.”

“I’ve never been to Wyoming! Why did you fucking say Wyoming?”

“It was the first place that came to my head,” Eddie said. He was starting to panic; he quickly pulled out his inhaler, taking a few breaths to calm himself. It didn’t help when Richie voiced his biggest concern.

“She’s never going to believe we’re not fucking, dude.”

“She has to,” Eddie gasped in between deep breaths, “she’ll ruin me if she doesn’t get her own way. This is my house and every fucking thing in it. She’s not getting her hands on anything else.”

Richie watched him, this mess of a man, a hypochondriac bullied by his wife, trapped in a loveless marriage with the worlds most boring job and hiding a body that would make God himself weep, and couldn’t help the smile on his face. He’d really fallen hard for him. Again.

“You know, it really turns me on when you talk like that.”

Before Eddie could so much as roll his eyes, Myra’s sickly tone called out to him.

“Eddie Bear, I need some help with dinner.”

Eddie glared at Richie who looked as though all his Christmases had come at once. He pointed at the comedian and whispered harshly, “you shut your fucking mouth.”

* * *

“So, Richie...” Myra began, fixing her uneasy gaze on the bespectacled ‘Wyoming businessman’; so far, her opinions of him were mixed. He seemed nice although he could talk the hind legs off a donkey. And his jokes were downright obscene. She really didn’t see why he and Eddie got on so well. Still, he was a guest and she was nothing if not a good host, “what part of Wyoming are you from?”

Richie paused sipping at his wine to glance at Eddie. He was frantically attempting to mouth the word _‘Cheyenne’_ which to Richie was near impossible to make out. He squinted, concentrating.

“The bi end?” Eddie slapped his forehead and quickly tried to pass it off as fixing his hair. Myra stared at him incredulously and Richie grinned awkwardly, “well, that’s what it’s called now. The locals named it after me…”

Myra paused, shifting uncomfortably in her seat; a dark look fell across her face as she fixed Richie with a suddenly distasteful stare.

“I see. So you’re a…”

“Bisexual, yes,” Richie said slowly; Myra’s change in mood hadn’t escaped his notice. Unfortunately, he was used to it. Nevertheless, he decided to push just that little bit further, “I’ve always been more into guys, though. Don’t get me wrong, I love girls but there’s nothing like a good seeing to, you know?”

“More carrots, dear?” Eddie hastily interrupted in a rather high-pitched voice, his hand shaking as he reached for the bowl, knocking over the pepper in his haste; he did his best to avoid looking at Richie, knowing he was watching him. Myra ignored Eddie, frowning at their guest.

“You sleep with men.”

“Mmm, it’s great, you should try it sometime,” Richie said, his mouth full of the dry ass chicken Myra had cooked to death. He swallowed and grinned his smug grin, indicating at Eddie, “surely this one’s up for it.”

“Myra, hon, we’re out of wine...”

Eddie indicated the empty bottle he’d just polished off to give her an excuse to leave; at this point, his face was pretty much the same colour as the Merlot they were drinking. Myra wasn’t entirely happy about leaving her husband alone with Richie but if she stayed in the same room any longer she might end up saying something to upset herself. Eddie waited until she was out of earshot before turning to Richie, a scowl on his face.

“Well, fuck you very much Mr ‘She’s Never Going To Believe We’re Not Fucking.’”

Richie looked genuinely confused yet still having the time of his life, “what did I say?”

“‘Nothing like a good seeing to’? You might as well have told her we fucked on this table two weeks ago!”

“Oh my bad, dude, I didn’t realise how easily that can be translated into ‘your husband takes my dick like a champ.’”

Eddie made a noise of frustration, standing up and playing both hands on the table, “fuck you. You’re so fucking infuriating.”

“Yeah, and how bad do you want to fuck me right now?”

Before Eddie could answer, Myra interrupted by clearing her throat somewhere behind them; the two men, who had been leaning on the table mirroring each other, turned to look at her. Her mouth was hanging open in stunned silence, gaping at her husband and his business client. Eddie swallowed, smiling innocently.

“Um…Richie does a bit of comedy on the side. We’re rehearsing his new set.”

Richie had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. It didn’t help when Eddie kicked him under the table.

* * *

Myra had come to the decision she didn’t like Richie at all. He was rude, arrogant and just plain annoying; she still didn’t understand why he and her husband go on so well. Halfway through dessert, Eddie had scooted across several seats so he was sitting next to his client; he was sitting sideways on the chair, leaning casually against the back of Richie’s chair. Richie was half-sitting, half-slumped in chair, sloshing wine over himself as he and Eddie chatted enthusiastically about things only they seemed to understand.

“You think they’ll name the kid after me?”

“Yeah, sure, if they want it to grow up repressed and useless,” Eddie scoffed, waving a hand dismissively, a smirk growing on his face, “anyway, Ben said they’re naming it after me.”

“Hmm, yeah, you’re right...Edwina Hanscom has a certain ring to it,” Richie smirked as Eddie raised his middle finger, “I don’t think they want to name their firstborn after an asshole, Eds.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie was pouring himself yet another glass of wine, already feeling slightly tipsy; he was beginning to forget Myra was even in the room, “how’s Bill?”

Richie shrugged, taking the bottle from Eddie to pour himself another glass, “he’s doing okay. He’s been crashing with Mike a lot. He says he’s fine but it’ll take time.”

“Shit, it’s definitely over this time, then?” At Richie’s answering nod, Eddie shook his head, taking a brief swig of his wine, “can’t say I was a fan of Audra but they seemed really good together.”

"The heart wants what it wants...”

Eddie nearly spilled the entire contents of his wine glass down his front. He looked up and found Richie looking back at him sympathetically; he briefly squeezed his hand beneath the table, smiling fondly. Eddie returned the smile, gratefully gripping Richie’s hand. Meanwhile, Myra was trying to figure out when Eddie had ever been to Wyoming in order to have met the same people as his client.

* * *

It was getting late and Myra was getting sick of the intrusive guest she was starting to suspect wasn’t a client at all. He seemed to her an elaborate stalker, incapable of leaving her husband alone. She’d be having some stern words with Eddie when they finally got rid of Richie. Currently, the two of them were sprawled on the sofa watching Richie’s shitty Netflix special, drunk and giggling, legs entwined and hands occasionally casually touching the other - Myra had never seen anything like it. She was scandalised to be honest.

“Dude, what were you thinking?” Eddie was giggling, nudging Richie as the comedian attempted to hide behind a cushion, “that, that shirt is fucking awful.”

“Big fucking talk for someone who used to run around in little red shorts and a fanny pack,” Richie shot back, tickling Eddie’s side playfully and earning him a sharp elbow in the ribs. This display had Myra jumping to her feet, outraged.

“It’s getting late, Richie. I think it’s about time you left.”

Eddie looked bewildered as if he was just noticing Myra for the first time. Richie smirked, removing his arm from around Eddie’s shoulders; he stood up and stretched, raising a suggestive eyebrow to Eddie, “fancy seeing me out, Spaghetti?”

“I’ll do it,” Myra said icily. Eddie scowled at her but knew better than to start something when she was like this. Richie shrugged, not so subtly winking at Eddie. Myra followed him through the house, practically throwing his jacket at him as they reached the door, “nice meeting you. Safe journey home, goodbye.”

“Guess I’m not on your Christmas card list, this year, then?” He was smirking again, shrugging on his jacket and digging his hands in the pockets. Myra folded her arms, unimpressed.

“I’m afraid Eddie won’t be able to see you anymore.”

Richie put on a mock pout, batting his eyelashes beneath his glasses, “awww, can he still come out to play tomorrow?”

“Everything is a joke to you. Eddie is too polite to say so but he doesn’t really like you,” she ignored the snort of laughter Richie made and continued venomously, “I just don’t want my Eddie Bear hanging around someone like you.”

"God, I’m having flashbacks to when I was sixteen,” Richie shuddered, recalling the memory in vivid detail, “although I was jumping out of the window at the time and Sonia was shouting, throwing her slipper at me.”

“My Eddie is not like you,” Myra continued, looking him up and down with disgust, “I know your type.”

Richie could feel his temper growing but he was damned if he was going to give Myra the satisfaction. He smiled tightly, “well, thanks for dinner, Mrs. K, it was pretty fucking gross but what do I know about cooking? I’m a fucking queer, right?” Myra didn’t say anything although she did look shocked. Richie was on a roll, though, his temper getting the better of him, “come on, let’s not pretend that’s not what this is about. Why you don’t want me seeing Eddie anymore. You’re too late anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

"You don’t realise how lucky you are, do you?” He let out a harsh laugh, struggling to remain calm, “your husband is the kindest, feistiest, funniest person, my best friend. And, yeah, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m in love with him. And it breaks my heart to see someone treat him the way you do,” he shook his head, reaching for the door handle, “whatever happens, you brought it on yourself.”

He was about to leave, walk away and never see Myra again, ignore the vile slur she murmured under her breath, continue nailing her husband behind her back until he felt comfortable to leave her, when the sound of glass smashing made them both whirl around; Eddie was standing in the doorway, his face flushed from the alcohol and a pool of wine and glass at his face. He was staring at Richie, mouth agape.

“You love me?”

Richie knew he was blushing as he met Eddie’s gaze; he was really wishing Myra wasn’t in the room right now. He cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet, “don’t be such a girl, dude. Of course I love you.”

Barely a moment later, Eddie was running towards him and throwing his hands around his neck, nearly knocking him off of his feet with the force of the hug. Richie clung to him, holding them upright; over Eddie’s shoulder, Myra was looking more confused than he’d ever seen anyone before. He pulled apart a moment later, holding onto Richie’s hand as if it was his lifeline; he looked at his soon-to-be ex-wife and swallowed.

“Myra...” Eddie was struggling to focus, happy tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He quickly swiped at his face, taking a deep breath; he felt an encouraging squeeze to his hand, giving him support and confidence. He can do this, “I want a divorce. I’m leaving, you can’t control me anymore. You can’t stand there and say those things about Richie, the man I love.”

Myra saw red. She lurched forwards, shoving Eddie aside and slapping Richie hard across the face, “you did this. I don’t know what you said to him but-”

“Myra,” Eddie stepped between them, forcing his ex to take a step back, “Richie here is pretty fucking special but I was gay long before his dick came anywhere near me.”

Richie leaned around Eddie’s shoulder, still rubbing his sore cheek as he cheekily added, “and he came onto me, by the way. No way was I gonna turn that down, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Myra blinked, gazing at her husband in confusion, “Eddie Bear...”

Eddie ignored her, once again facing Richie. Their hands were still firmly attached and Eddie stroked the back of his boyfriend’s hand with his thumb, smiling adoringly, “wait in the car. I’m just going to get a couple of things.”

Richie hesitated, glancing behind him at Myra who was still silently fuming, arms folded tightly across her chest. Eddie gave him a reassuring nod, stroking his hand. Richie smiled and reluctantly let go of Eddie’s hand, leaving the house. Once he was sitting in his car, Richie let out a deep sigh, lighting a cigarette. The evening hadn’t quite gone the way he’d planned but, as he watched Eddie drag his suitcase out of the house ten minutes later, handing over his wedding ring to Myra, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy it turned out like this. Eddie shoved his things in the trunk of the car, climbing into the seat beside Richie a few minutes later. They sat in silence for a short while, Eddie resting his elbow against the window and Richie blowing smoke out of his mouth, until Eddie broke the tension.

“There’s no way she’s going to let me off lightly. Adultery, emotional trauma...”

“You put up with more shit than that,” Richie reminded, flicking his cigarette out of the window. out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Eddie gazing wistfully back at his house. He knew the answer but he felt he should ask anyway, “any regrets?”

“Fuck no,” Eddie chuckled although there was no humour. He shrugged, glancing down at his fidgeting hands, “I’ve got nowhere to go now. Do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?”

“How about forever?” Even to Richie that sounded dumb and cheesy, he couldn’t really blame Eddie for laughing at him. Still, he pouted, “shut the fuck up, asshole, I’m trying to be romantic.”

Eddie looked up at him with soft brown eyes that melted Richie’s heart, “did you mean that?”

“Yeah, dude, like, move in with me!” He took Eddie’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them could stop smiling and Richie kissed Eddie’s knuckles, “you’ll get through this and then you’re all mine.”

“I’ve always been yours.”

Now it was Richie’s turn to laugh, “okay, you have no right to laugh at my romantic crap and then say shit like that.”

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.”

And so he did.

**Author's Note:**

> @astudyinnewtina on tumblr


End file.
